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wolves began to talk
and they said, we are very hungry
books opened themselves to pages that read
time's up time's up time's up
and I broke my heel on the sidewalk
when the sky filled with housewives
wearing mink coats and hair straight out of Leave it to Beaver
riding white horses and carrying just-baked cherry pies
one of them adopted me
she said her name was unpronounceable
but I could call her Tiffany and we
rode through broken forests
hunting men and pigs who had not yet
assumed speech as the wolves did
Tiffany calls it the
culling, says when we
are making a pearl
sanding frost-skin
to find shapes underneath
more pleasant
less smoke
and the wolves won't be hungry
and the forests will split in two
green again and again
brand new